Expectations
by moody bloom
Summary: She's a Zabrak, and from what Andronikos has seen, most of her kind keep to themselves around Imperial military types. But she carries herself in that uniform like she just could not give a damn what anyone thinks of it, and he likes her instinctively for that. (One shot on Tatooine)


How many people in the Star Wars universe really _get_ the whole Sith and Jedi thing? How many of them have met one, or even seen one in real life? Regular everyday people probably have a lot of assumptions about what they should look like, or how they would act...

Star Wars is, as usual, not my property. You know the deal.

* * *

Andronikos Revel has never spent very long up close with a Sith. And let's be honest, he's not even sure what being a Sith really means. Lot of people can call themselves 'a Sith', in the sense that they're playing some small part in that strange mixed-up world of theirs. He's even seen a few kids calling themselves acolytes once, hanging around spaceports with lightsaber hilts strapped ostentatiously to their belts and acting like they owned the place. Kids like that, they don't seem all that scary. Not like what you think a Sith ought to act like.

And she doesn't dress like what you think a Sith ought to dress like, that's for sure. None of those robes or hoods. This one is wearing the uniform of an Imperial officer — oh, yeah, and with the sneer to go with it, which seems kind of an unusual attitude for an alien to have. She's a Zabrak, and from what Andronikos has seen, most of her kind keep to themselves around Imperial military types. But she carries herself in that uniform like she just could not give a shit what anyone thinks of it, and he likes her instinctively for that.

He tells her about the artifact, about what happened to him and his crew because of it, and it's only a few minutes into that conversation that he notices the hilt on her belt where a regular officer might wear her blaster.

And _then_ he sees the big, hulking being waiting for her outside.

"That your friend?" he asks.

"He is Khem Val, a Dashade," she says, as though that ought to mean something to him.

"Right."

She gives him a look. "I _suppose_ it's something of a long story," she adds.

There's that, too. She doesn't sound like the way you'd think a Sith ought to sound. She sounds, well, like anyone else does. Maybe a little snippy, no different to the way most Imperials sound to his ears.

Maybe it's all just for show. The lightsaber hilt, the strange companion, the whole thing — all bravado, like those young acolytes. She seems enthusiastic, he guesses, but he's not really so sure that she'll make it there and back. If you were to ask him to make a wager on it, the smart money would be on her leaving for that Exchange base, and never coming back. Either she'll die in that place, or she'll get the information she wants and go look for the damned artifact without him.

But he likes long odds, and despite all that, he has a good feeling about her. Besides, Andronikos Revel isn't the kind of man who'd turn up an offer like hers.

#

It had been only a little bit surprising, then, when the Sith and her companion returned with the hot, coppery smell of the desert clinging to their clothing, and a datapad with a message for him.

He should have known Wilkes would have gone underground. No, the real surprise was that he was so close to his hiding place after all.

Andronikos gathers a few of the things he'll need — his armour, some blasters — and while he changes into something more appropriate for a journey into the desert he overhears the Sith having a short conversation with her strange companion, in a language he's never heard before, harsh and guttural and very precise.

"It's only temporary," she says in Basic, "Only for a short while. The sooner we find this artifact, the sooner we can be gone from this place." Khem Val begins to growl something in response, but the Sith silences him with a sharp "Don't."

By the time Andronikos is done changing into his armour and duster, the Dashade is gone, and the Sith stands quietly to one side of the door, her hands settled loosely on her hips.

"You're ready to leave?" she asks.

"Whenever you are."

"Good," she says simply, and they make their way down to her speeder. Turns out she rides a small, light Aratech model, its paint job marred with the fine sand abrasions that adorn every other Tatooine speeder. Was he expecting something else?

Then he realises something as they climb aboard the speeder.

"You never told me your name, Sith."

"I am called Rakai Ven."

"Well, I'm pleased to make your acquaintance," he says, putting out a hand to shake. She looks down at it, then takes it carefully, her finely woven cortosis gloves cool against his skin. He notices then, as he watches her expression, how young she seems. Even beautiful, if you like that sort of thing. Not at all how he thought a Sith would look.

"I don't think anyone's ever told me that before," she says.

#

The journey to the cave system is long, and hot, and Andronikos spends the time staring off into the gently rolling landscape of the Dune Sea, imagining all the different ways he could defile Sylas Wilkes' worthless remains, and the things he will say as he puts a blaster bolt down the man's throat. Rakai follows the line of some cliffs all the way around to the caves, staying in their shadows as much as possible, for which Andronikos is particularly grateful.

The problem, of course, is that the cooler parts of the ground are also where you'll find Tatooine's wildlife making its home. As they zip through a series of broken columns, a big, angry rill lifts its head from its sandy home and hisses, loud enough to be heard over the whine of the speeder's engines, and begins to scuttle over the sand towards them.

Rakai glances quickly over her shoulder — "Little bastard," she says — and guns the engine. The speed should be enough to keep ahead of the rill, but the creature's cries alert more of its brethren, and soon Rakai is steering the speeder in quick, lurching turns to veer away as more of the creatures climb out of their burrows. Andronikos pulls a blaster from his belt and sloppily fires off a few bolts at a nearby rill. They don't connect, but it's enough to scorch the sand at its feet, scaring the animal away and scattering the others.

"What are you doing?" Rakai snaps over her shoulder. "You'll just draw attention to us."

"From what?" he asks.

And as though on cue, about a hundred metres in front of them, atop a cliff, three Sand People begin to screech and scramble down the near-vertical rock face, streams of dust and sand falling in front of them.

"Ahhh… _kark it_," he says.

"Indeed." Rakai pulls up hard on the speeder's brake, stopping the speeder with a bump and jumping straight off. "They don't attack unless you get too close or you start shooting things in their territory. Make yourself ready."

"So we can't just outrun them on the speeder?"

"And risk them tracking us to Wilkes' place? Or calling for their comrades? I don't think that's wise."

She pulls the lightsaber hilt from her belt and the blade snaps to life, a rich burnt orange that hums in an otherworldly way, and even though Andronikos knows he needs to keep his attention firmly on the approaching Sand People he can't help but stare at the weapon in her hands. This is the first time he's ever seen one up close. _Guess it really wasn't just for show._

The Sand People are close, now, just forty metres away at a guess, and he thumbs the control on his right hand blaster that will overload the next few blaster bolts for maximum impact — then he takes careful aim at the nearest Sand Person and squeezes the trigger. All three bolts hit the creature square in its chest and it flails back with a screech, landing on its rear — stunned, or hopefully dead. The other two don't even look back, gaffi sticks raised.

Rakai's blade meets the first one in its left shoulder, punching right through cloth and flesh and out the other side of the creature's back, and it screams and whirls back, the wounded arm swinging useless by its side, blindly flailing its gaffi stick towards her head with its remaining arm. In one smooth movement she turns the blade back around and parries the strike, then as fast as a heartbeat she neatly plunges the blade into its throat. Andronikos nearly misses his chance to pistol-whip the other Sand Person, now close enough that he can smell the sourness rolling off its body. It reels back and with his other blaster he puts four quick blaster bolts right into its helmet, striking out to kick it with his left leg at the same time to shove it back and away from them. With the tip of her lightsaber, Rakai slits its chest open for good measure, the superheated plasma of the blade splitting its bones and cauterising flesh with loud _cracks_.

He catches his breath — although they have barely exerted themselves, the adrenaline pounding through his system makes him alert, aware, every bit of him standing on edge, and while he's seen a lot of carnage in his time, he's never once seen anyone do what she's just done with her blade.

"Are you alright, Revel?" the Sith asks him, elation clearly marked on her face.

"Fine, yeah, I'm—"

From the corner of his eye he sees the first Sand Person, then, the one he shot in the chest, struggling to its knees.

Rakai whirls around, fixing it with a stare.

And no matter how long he lives, Andronikos will never be able to find the words to properly describe the thing he feels next: somehow, as if she is gathering it from the very air around them, she _wraps herself in pure malevolence_ and spits pure energy from her hands, that arcs into the creature's dying body. For three, maybe four seconds, she pours this into its body, until the air is filled with the smell of ozone and burnt flesh, until the creature is well and truly dead.

She closes her eyes for a second, then opens them again, and he stares at her. "What… was…"

"I probably should have warned you that you'll need a strong stomach, Revel."

"No kidding."

She lifts the corner of her mouth in something approximating a wry smile. "I suppose you might have expected something else of me."

"Something like that."

"Hm." She seems almost amused by the idea, and as she kicks sand over the creatures' bodies, Andronikos Revel decides that this is probably the right time to re-assess everything he thinks he knows about Sith.


End file.
